


Quit Bleeding, Keep Talking

by fizzygingr



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Blood, Delirium, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Luke Skywalker is my KIDDO, a fair amount of it actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 03:59:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18003413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fizzygingr/pseuds/fizzygingr
Summary: Han rescues Luke, who's bleeding out and delirious.





	Quit Bleeding, Keep Talking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yet_intrepid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yet_intrepid/gifts).



> Because when I posted this to tumblr a year ago he told me to please put it on AO3 and I???? Was so honored that he thought it was Good Enough??? So thanks, friend.
> 
> From the prompt "Okay, that—that’s a lot of blood, hang on…”

Luke’s distress call brought Han to a broad forest clearing, safe enough for cover but large enough to land the Falcon right in the middle of it. It was the perfect place to wait for help, honestly, and Han wasn’t sure how Luke had found it, even if he had realized on day one that the kid was smarter than he looked.

 

He sprinted down the ramp and found Luke slumped against a tree, pale and shaking, with his hands pressed against his stomach and-yeah, that was  _ definitely  _ blood seeping between his fingers. A lot of it, actually.

 

“Kriffing hell, kid, what’d they hit you with?” he asked, kneeling in front of him.

 

But Luke  _ smiled  _ at that, broadly, like a kid in a kriffing candy store. “A slugthrower!” he said, “honest, Han, just like in the...in the holos…”

 

Han knew enough about slugthrowers to know that this was not good news. And neither was the delirium. “Well, at least you’re enjoying yourself,” he muttered, tapping Luke’s legs. “You feel that?”

 

“Yeah. Yeah, but Han. Did you watch those? You know...where the guy had a hat like…”

 

He lifted his arms, no doubt attempting to approximate the shape of the hat. But as soon as his hands came off the wound, it started gushing.

 

“Whoa, okay,” said Han, taken aback by the sheer volume of it, “that—that’s a lot of blood, hang on…”

 

He guided Luke’s hands back to his stomach, and pressed his own hands over them hard for good measure.

 

“Chewie!” He called back. “He’s bleeding, I need something to seal this up with, now!”

 

Luke’s head lolled, and he eyes began to slide shut. “Hey,” said Han, “Hey, Luke. Tell me about the guy who shot you. He have a hat?”

 

“No,” said Luke, his voice weaker now, “no, it’s never as fun as you think.”

 

Chewie approached them, holding a tube of something to staunch the bleeding. Han motioned with his head for him to kneel down next to them.

 

“Okay, Luke,” he said. “On my cue, you need to take your hands off, and Chewie’s gonna plug you up. You ready?”

 

Luke nodded.

 

“Okay. Now!”

 

As soon as the gel touched the wound, Luke screamed and tried to slam his hands back over it. Han gripped them tightly to keep them still, but they were so damn slippery that they slid right out and slammed into Chewie’s arm. Chewie didn’t budge, of course, not until the gel had solidified into a hard cast. Then he guided Luke’s hands back down to his abdomen, all the while purring soft nonsense that Luke probably didn’t follow, but didn’t really have to.

 

“It stings,” he moaned when he’d caught his breath.

 

“Yeah, that means it’s working,” said Han. “Come on, let’s get you back to the base.”

 

Chewie scooped Luke up in his arms, and Han walked alongside them. He kept a hand on the kid’s forehead, even though it meant  smearing blood on his face. It was for his own reassurance more than anything.

 

“Hey, Han?” Luke murmured, barely audible.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Tell Leia I’m sorry. For failing the mission.”

 

“No way,” he said firmly. “You’re gonna tell her yourself.”

 

“No,” he protested, “no, it was important. She needs to...she needs…”

 

“Hey,” said Han. “Hey.” They were on board the Falcon now, so Chewie laid Luke down in an alcove and went to get the ship in the air. Sinking into the plush surface, Luke threatened to lose consciousness even while his face was still twisted in pain.

 

“Look at me, kid,” said Han. “Right here, right in the eyes. You’re gonna get back to base, get yourself patched up, and then you can apologize to Leia all on your own. Somehow, I don’t think she’s gonna kick your ass over this one.”

 

“She might kick yours,” said Luke.

 

“Huh?”

 

“If I don’t, I mean. Don’t make it back. She’ll kick your ass right into wild space.” He laughed— _ laughed _ —then sucked in a breath through his teeth even while keeping the smile on his face. “You’ll be in trouble, Han.”

 

Han couldn’t believe this kid sometimes. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I will. So save my skin, will you? You owe me that much.”

 

“I know,” said Luke, and something in his face let Han know he’d stopped joking. “I know.”


End file.
